The sun had long since set on a terrible day for Itachi. He wandered down the dark streets – green gardens and luscious trees – toward his house. It was freezing, but he couldn't feel the cold that bit at his exposed skin.

Approaching his house, he saw that the lights were out except for the porch light. Immediately he recognised the individual who sat waiting for him patiently. His boyish face forever at ease.

Itachi sighed and walked up the driveway.

"They went looking for you...Well your father did. Your mother, she's at the hospital with Sasuke. I told them I'd wait here in case you came back..."

Shisui was very much concerned, but handled the situation with ease – Itachi appreciated that. He didn't want what had happened to be a big deal – he just wanted it to be forgotten, erased from life. Not even a memory of it.

"Thank you for waiting for me – but you can go home now..." Itachi whispered as he walked passed Shisui, taking out his key to the front door.

Shisui stood up, "What happened?"

Itachi didn't respond – felt no need to. What would he say? What difference would it make? He unlocked and opened the front door, switching on the light of the hallway. He closed the door on an expectant Shisui and made his way to the stairs.

The front door opened, he knew it was Shisui.

"Itachi...what's going on?" Shisui asked gently.

Itachi clutched the wooden stair railing and hissed when he remembered how badly his palms were scraped. Shisui noticed.

"Did you do that to yourself?" Shisui's voice was a mixture of anger and horror.

"I'm tired," Itachi said simply, trudging up the stairs. Shisui was at his side in an instant – wrapping Itachi's arm around his shoulder to help him up the stairs. Itachi tried to shrug Shisui off but he wasn't strong enough.

They made it to Itachi's bedroom and Shisui sat Itachi down on his bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a minor first aid kit.

"Let's clean this up," Shisui said gently.

They sat like that in silence, even when Shisui dabbed the alcohol on Itachi's open scrapes. Finally gauze was fastened on both palms and the wounds had been sufficiently cleaned – splinters removed.

Itachi hadn't said a word.

Shisui sat down on the bed next to him, "It has to do with Sasuke being in the hospital, doesn't it?"

"I'm...I'm too scared to ask if he's okay..." Itachi admitted softly.

"He's okay. He wants to come home - just a concussion and a few stitches."

Itachi let out a breath of relief.

There was silence again – it seemed to haunt them. In Itachi's obsessively organised room, the two boys sat in silence, staring at nothing in particular.

"I should call your father – let him know you're home."

"Yes."

Shisui left the room and Itachi laid down on his bed, looking at the ceiling. Something had shifted, something had turned upside down.

"He'll be back in five..." Shisui said as he returned to the room. He had a hopeful tone to his voice – and Itachi knew that Shisui hoped to spend the night.

But he wanted to be alone. He wanted to feel that familiar, safe, loneliness.

"Okay, thank you." He responded automatically – like a robot.

"Whatever it is that's got you like this, you don't have to face it alone...just know that I am – and will – be here for you." And, with that, Shisui left the bedroom then ultimately the house.

Itachi's father soon arrived, lectured his stoic son and noticed the despondence. He stopped and left Itachi to sleep.

*****

No screaming, Itachi noted as he sat up the next morning. There was no crashing, shouting or screeching.

He got out of bed, showered and got dressed for school. As he was descending the stairs, the smell of pancakes wafted in the air and his nostrils devoured the scent.

Maybe everything is okay, he thought.

He entered the kitchen, his father was sitting at the table as his mother stacked pancake on pancake – her back turned to him.

"Good morning," his father greeted cheerfully.

It didn't quite reach his eyes.

Itachi nodded in acknowledgement, "Sit down hun, I made pancakes."

Itachi hesitantly took a seat and his mother placed a stack down in front of him – way too much for him to possibly finish. She then sat down next to him with her own stack.

His father didn't get a stack – both he and Itachi noticed this.

Nothing is okay.

His father kept quiet though and sipped his coffee. The tension, the bitterness and anger was thick in the air. Itachi uncomfortably took one pancake off the stack and doused it with the thick sugary syrup.

"Her name is Mei," Mikoto said cheerfully – forced restraint.

Itachi's father took another sip of his coffee silently, eyes fixed on the newspaper. Itachi's mother cut off a piece of her pancake and ate it. It was quiet again. Itachi felt his emotions begin stirring inside of him – inside his stomach – he struggled to swallow his next bite.

"She lives over in the next town and works as an accountant," his mother added.

Fugaku slammed his hands on the table – making Itachi flinch, "How do you know this?"

His mother responded happily, "I used your credit card and hired a private detective – the most expensive one I could find."

"You're a vindictive woman, Mikoto. You'd do this while our son is sitting right there," he motioned to Itachi.

Itachi was put on the spot with all his fear and uneasiness. They were fighting again – verbally boxing.

His appetite had disappeared, he gently pushed his plate of a half eaten pancake away.

"He should know what his father has been up to," his mother responded coldly.

Itachi left the kitchen – grabbing his bag – and left the house when the screaming started again. The moment he reached the pavement – his aching numbness returned. The world's sights, sounds and feelings all turned gray, absorbed by the concrete pavement. No pain, but no passion.

"Itachi!" A comforting, yet somehow, terrifying voice called.

Shisui finished locking his front door and quickly jogged over to Itachi, smiling his easy smile.

Itachi saw colour in his gray world again. It was tan skin, white teeth, unruly black curls and twinkling onyx eyes.

He threw his arms around Shisui's neck, who was taken by surprise. Itachi clung onto the colour with force – not allowing it to turn gray.

His lips lifted to Shisui's ear, "Make me feel good again...please," Itachi whispered, his hand finding its way under Shisui's shirt, feeling each abdominal muscle teasingly.

"H-how?" Shisui choked.

Itachi stood on the edge of his feet so he was Shisui's height, "You know how," he whispered seductively.

Sending a shiver up Shisui's back.

A/N: My dearest readers, to relieve Itachi of his pain please leave him a comforting comment❤️ don't forget to stan their relationship with a vote!

Love always,
Icy

P. S Shisui is mad at me for putting Itachi though this.